The Shield of Undómiel
by Katherine Everdeen
Summary: Fourteen years have passed since the ring was destroyed, but that doesn't mean that evil isn't still at work in its mischief. When Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli are hunting with King Éomer, they are ambushed by a band of orcs that are determined to get revenge on the king. What will happen if they succeed? Will Darkness grow again in Middle Earth?
1. Chapter 1 The Hunt

**A/N:**

**This story is dedicated to ****Nina (PeppyPower.) **_**"Sorry that it took a little longer than I had guessed. I'm sort of paranoid when it comes to editing my work, and I'm my own worst critic. I never like to share anything with anyone unless I'm sure it's the best work that I can possibly do. Hope you like it."**_

**Anyways… To everyone else…**

**I am a huge fan of Tolkien, so (sorry P.J.) I wanted to follow the facts that are directly from the books instead of the movie, (but, they're still my favorite movies.) That being said, don't let the title deceive you. I'm trying to write the characters as they appeared in the books; this means no Arwen-warrior stuff. I hope to update it by one chapter every couple of days. I also thought that it would be neat to add in fun facts about Tolkien and his life in front of every chapter, starting with chapter two.**

**I don't own any of the original characters, places, or spoken lines. No copyright intended. Enjoy the story! **

**P.S. Sorry if the other Middle Earth languages aren't very fluent. I only speak English and Sign Language.**

**Chapter I - The Hunt:**

Fourteen winters and fourteen springs, have been counted since the sway of Sauron's evil was destroyed. True peace could at last be tasted by all free folk alike after the dark lord's bitter noose had almost tightened over all that was good and pure. Needless to say though that the darkness had not yet been emptied out of the lands of Middle Earth, for even in such blissful days as these, foul things still lurked within the dark crevices of the world. Not all orcs were slain in the Battle at the Black Gates, and not all servants of Sauron remained scattered. The War of the Ring was a long and terrible one and would not be mended so easily.

Hence now, over green lands of swaying grass, there road a host of men nearing the edge of the Gap of Rohan. Gold and silver light glistened in radiance from their bright plated helms, and spears of iron thorns gleamed over their heads alongside two noble banners that flew above them, weaving through the wind. On one banner, there was a pale stead, and on the other a white tree, for indeed, these men were of the kingdoms of Gondor and Rohan. At their head was King Éomerof the golden hall of Meduseld, and by his side, there road King Elessar from the white city of Minus Tirith. Among the Éored and the host of Elessar's riders, there also was Legolas the elf, and Gimli the dwarf. No swift speed could outlast against such a company, for they were hunters chasing prey.

Less than two furlongs by the horses stride, fetid orcs fled northward, in search of cover beneath the thin forest which lay yonder no more than a league's way away. Together the riders in their raging might, were one hundred and eighteen warriors in arms, and against the small band of orcs in the near distance, they were indomitable.

'_Don_ I count of their numbers,' said Legolas, 'ten there are that flee.'

'Spoken well,' said Gimli 'the language of Khuzdûl may yet befit you Legolas. But alas ten is not enough for the likes of us when we ten times their count.'

'Alas, it is not,' replied Legolas, 'but one of us at least may have a victory against these orcs.'

'Another game it will be then,' answered Gimli cheerfully, 'we shall see soon who slay his orc.' A cloudless sky was tilted to the west, and above them all was a light so fair that the ocrs cowered beneath it. The sun was abroad, so bright and glorious that no darkness could cast a veil to cover it.

'They will not get far,' declared Éomer. 'The sun shines against their foul faces. The day is with us my friends.'

'So it is,' answered Elessar. 'They will reach their end ere the day is up. Woe to the enemy that runs, and woe to the dying darkness. Forward Sons of the Free Lands!' The king's sword, brandished in his grip, was held aloft, and a white flame blazed in his hand. 'Andúril!' he cried, and then as arrows launched from the strings of bows, the horses charged against the orcs. Beneath the fast beating of hooves upon the plains, the very ground trembled with fury. Two horns, each from the houses of Gondor and Rohan sang loud and clear, trumpets not of war, but of battle and guard over the lands of their bearers. Shivering cries shrieked themselves ahead of the company as the orcs fled faster, but without use, for they were no match against the horse lords and the men of Númenor.

'Gúthwinë!' shouted Éomer. Another horn was blown and rung for leagues across to hear and then the rushing wave of horses swept upon their foe, passing once over the orcs in a single charge. Bows sung and arrows whistled. Spears rose and pierced down alongside the swords that struck and hewed down the wicked creatures. No sooner than it had begun, the battle was ended, short and vengeful, with every orc felled and slain upon the Gap of Rohan.

'What have you Gimli?' said Legolas 'I have taken two.' The dwarf mumbled something in his own tongue, for he had not the chance to swing his axe ere the orcs were already overtaken and finished. The elf laughed, turning his head lightly to the trees that were at the roots of the Misty Mountains. Suddenly the eyes of Legolas caught a glimpse of a something small: movement over to where he had swiftly gazed. He shaded his eyes to better see what was thither, then called Elessar's name as his sight was bent to the north. 'There are twenty three orcs in hiding yonder,' he announced to the company. 'They have seen us, and are fleeing deeper into the trees.'

'Twenty three?' questioned Gimli, 'ah yes, that is a good number. Enough heads for my axe, and for me to redeem myself. I will not be out scoured by an elf.'

'They will be hunted,' the king of Rohan agreed.

'But lord,' said Éothain, the king's second in command. 'Past those trees and hills is Dunland, the Wild Man's country? Dare we leave the borders of Rohan?'

'Their mistake shall be their own undoing if the orcs think that they may hide from us in those lands,' said Éomer, and Éothain said no more. Nothing he said would change his king's mind. Elessar – however slightly – was troubled by it, though knowing that twenty three enemies could not withhold against their might. He yet wondered what such number of foes awaited for them if there were more than what Legolas' keen sight could track beyond the grey branches and shrivelled ferns of pine trees ahead. 'I do not doubt that they will have scattered to all roads but those that lead south,' continued Éomer. 'If such is true, then the hunt will be more difficult if we continue onwards as we have ere.'

'I deem that it will,' said Elessar, 'but that cannot be helped by us.'

'Speak not so swiftly yet Aragorn,' said Éomer.

'My friend,' said Elessar, 'when have you yet known me to be too swift when patience needed?' he asked.

'I have not,' answered Éomer. 'Indeed, forgive me for saying such, yet even as the orcs are divided, I see other paths that we may both pursue to overtake them all.'

'Other paths? Of what do you speak lord?' questioned Elessar. By now the company approached over the borders of Rohan, coming nearer and nearer to Dunland with every stride of their steads.

'Our skills and size outnumber their own,' said Rohan's king. 'If they are divided, perhaps then we must send separate parties of our own after them.'

'That is just reasoning my lord,' said Elessar, 'were the hunt still in thy lands. But to the north where still the house of Erol and the men of Númenor are looked ill upon? Even as war is ended between our realms and Dunland's, their courtesy is less than merciful.'

'Not far into Dunland will we venture, nor shall we tarry longer than we must to slay an enemy which the Wild Men also hate,' persisted Éomer. 'I will lead my Éored on the trail of these orcs, but what of those who flee in a different direction? Are we to show no vengeance against them after the many sons and fathers of our people were struck into death by their hands?' A chorus of nays chanted up in answer to the king, for their riders were too driven by hate of the orcs to falter now on their hunt. It was with a heavy heart that Elessar agreed. He did not approve of this plan, but knew that he could not convince all of their company otherwise.

'So be it,' said King Elessar. 'My men will follow me along the brink of the hills and the forest to hinder all orcs that will retreat to the west.

'I thank you Aragorn,' said Éomer, 'but bring Legolas and Gimli with thy party. Let it not be said that the Three Hunters from the songs and legends of war be separated on this very hunt. I will ride my men behind the trail of the orcs and cut down any who flee north or east.'

'That is well, but be wary and swift,' warned Elessar. 'Even in such times, these lands are not safe.' Wryly, the king of the Mark laughed and placed a thoughtful hand upon Elessar's shoulder.

'Now I must I ask you, my friend, if thou hath yet known me not to be swift when haste is needed.'

'Indeed, and ne'er I must answer,' laughed Elessar, 'but still, heed my word Éomer, and be wary, for I cannot say what such path lies before thee, if you choose to ride forwards.'

'None ever shall know that road, less it is taken by them,' answered Éomer, speaking now with words of the wisest in Rohan. 'But come, we have yet another matter to speak of. We must know when to end this crusade and when it is finished, and so I say this: In peril, let the horns of our nations call out endlessly until aid has come, but for each felled orc, let only a single horn sing, separately and in turn.'

'And what of the Dunlanders?' questioned Gimli. 'They surly will hear the cries of our horns if we voice them within their lands.'

'They do not dwell so closely beneath the mountains Gimli,' said Éomer. 'If they come in search of us, we will by then be hours departed from their borders.'

'Then if go we must into Dunland, we must make way in haste while the noon sky isn't waning into the west,' said Elessar.

'Well spoken. I will delay us no longer,' answered Éomer. Elessar said naught as he measured his own decision, but nodded nonetheless in accord. King Éomer rose taller than he had been ere in his saddle, and re-summoned the Riders of Rohan to his command.

'Good luck my Friends,' he called back to them, and then departed on the trail of the stray orcs. Elessar watched as the shadows of the king and his men faded away and mingle between the distant shadows of the darkening trees, until only Legolas' keen sight could find their shapes amidst the tall brooding stalks of pines that stood slivered between the roots of the Mountains.

Noon was pressing on and would in hours, turn to dusk and nightfall. Thus, King Elessar called the men of Gondor to him, and they rode on past the borders of Rohan and along the forest and hill lines of Dunland.

The company was watchful of any movement beyond their own party, and the king did not relax the hold upon his sword. Two and a hundred years were weighed down upon his shoulders, but they were left unnoticed by most, and forgotten of, for he looked no wearier than any of the worriers among him with only the wisdom in his eyes betraying the countless winters that he had seen. Upon the grey stead, Arod, Legolas and Gimli rode alongside him in companionship, whilst still on the lookout for orcs.

'This is not wise,' whispered Legolas, in a voice that only Gimli and Elessar could hear.

'I know,' said Elessar, 'we must not disturb these lands. It may be a great deed of service that we do to rid the Dunlanders of these orcs, but nonetheless, though I said otherwise, it is not them that I fear to meat. I do not doubt that we are in danger here. The tidings of these orcs is queer to me, and we do not know why they have journeyed hither, if it is by more means than to run from us.

'Aye, and a strange thing it is,' said Gimli 'to find so many orcs on the Planes of Rohan.'

'Indeed,' said Elessar. 'No such numbers have been reported since these lands were under the shadow of Sauron. I worry that Éomer is troubled too much by this. Ever we have been hunting for orcs throughout Rohan, and ere this day, we have charged upon four ranks of orcs, and to find yet another pack travelling in the same direction as the others is strange.'

'The king's mind is restless,' said Legolas. 'The love for his people is very strong, but I fear that a loathing hatred grows with it.'

'I fear so also,' said Elessar, 'but speak not of such things, for he is still a noble king to all of Rohan that loves him. He has no care for orcs, a loathing that which is shared by us all, and when he bade us to ride with him, we answered. For now, that is all that can be done by us.' He said no more, and they rode on without delay. The pebbles and earth of Dunland loosely turned beneath the strides of their horses, and was the only sound heard and made by the company from Gondor. As hours passed, nothing stirred, and to many of the men, it was as though the land was in a still and ghostly slumber. No birds whistled in the crooked branches of the wood and even the grass did not rustle or bend beneath the breeze. All was kept silent about them.

Such a thing however, did not last, and as many of the hunters slowly turned towards weariness, farther yonder, the woods began to wail, and the company halted, listened, and were un-eased by what they heard. 'Wargs,' said Gimli 'that howling is made up of the voices wolves, or I have never heard one before.'

'Yes, I hear them too,' said Legolas 'but not do I see them, and nor did I before, when I gazed upon the forest.' This was troubling to Elessar

'Of what did you see?' he questioned.

'No such animals or beasts,' answered Legolas, 'saves for the orcs that King Éomer pursues. Yet even I cannot see past the many miles of knotted trees and risen stones.'

'Then this is a different pack,' suggested Gimli.

'Yes, and maybe one that is in league with the orcs we have seen,' uttered Elessar. 'I do not like this.' At these words, the wailing wolf noises ceased suddenly, and all was quiet once more.

'Would you have scouts ride ahead lord?' asked Hatalmá, one of the king's men.

'No, let us not risk it,' said Elessar. 'The wolf prowls soundlessly by most ears save for those of Legolas', and are cunning to approach, gathering silently around their prey ere they spring.' He sighed and looked on to the east, 'I would that Éomer's men did not part our company.' These words he spoke to himself, but then commanded to the other: 'draw your swords!' The king's men, loosened their weapons. Legolas fitted an arrow onto his bow and while Gimli loosened his axe from his belt. They did not stir.

Suddenly the baying cries of wargs arose again, this time nearer and were gaining rapidly towards them. Few of the horses endured the wailing sounds, and those that did not, shuddered and shook beneath the saddles of their masters. The howling brewed up and travelled over the hills, but came from the woods.

The long, narrow road that they were upon was sheltered beneath the hills of the west, but to the east, the trees opened out, and from there the warg's voices cried loudest. The king gazed deeper into the thicket of trees to their right side, and there two bright orbs appeared, glinting red in the deepest depths of the forest shadows.

Five wolves, pale coated, and ravenous, sprang out from the shadows, darting past their path, and upon them rode orcs as foul and bitter looking as the ones they were hunting. A dark arrow, sent in flight, whistled past the Elessar's ear, only ere more arrows from Legolas and the men or Gondor assailed against the orc felon that dared to harm their king. The first orc and his mount were felled with many shafts stuck in their reeked flesh. The men's horses reared and pushed backwards, all save for Arod who took off like the wind, on the tail of the four wolves that fled. Some men followed, but none could outmatch the riding skills of Legolas as he and Gimli chased the wolves at their heels. Up, up they chased over the hills with the company of men behind them, Elessar in lead behind Legolas and Gimli. The elf's bow twanged as he sent an arrow into the warg furthest away. It shrieked and tumbled, flinging it's rider to one side. The second and third wolf jumped nimbly over its fell carcase. The fourth one however, was not as lucky, and tripped flinging both it and the orc mounted on it, into the rugged soil.

'Not an arrow in any of these, Legolas!' shouted Gimli 'They are mine to finish.' With that, the dwarf leapt down from Arod's back and landed with two stout feet upon the hill. Legolas took heed of Gimli's words, and rode on in pursuit of the two other wolves and their masters. With his axe in hand, Gimli met against his first orc. In front of him, it held in its hairy hand, a foul, black horn, which it pushed its peeling lips against blew. The horn shrieked and spoiled the air with its sound, but the dwarf's stout stance did not waver, and he charged. _'Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd!' _he chanted fiercly, swinging his axe against the orc. With one quick arch of his axe, the foul hand holding the horn was cut from the creature's limb and then Gimli swung his axe once more, and the orc fell headless to the ground.

Now there were only two to face the wrath of one of Durin's folk. A two handed stroke hewed the legs off of the second orc, ere he cleaved down upon its skull, but then the pale warg, tall and fierce, with eyes of cold red ice, sprang. Gimli leapt to one side and missed the wolf's attack, but tumbled backwards as he did. The warg charged again towards him, teeth bared like rows of silver knives, yet even as the beast drew near, Gimli pitched his axe. It flew for a moment before it carved itself deep into the flesh of the wolf. The beast went rigid, fell, and did not move again.

With a satisfying grunt, the dwarf stood up once more and hefted his axe from the felled carcase which he had slain. As King Elessar came up the steep rise with his men behind him, Legolas returned over the peak of the hill and approached the dwarf, who by then had lifted his axe and placed it back upon the strap of his belt.

'You do not make it easy to follow you my friends,' said the king. 'How went the hunt without us?'

'Three necks broken!' answered the dwarf. 'My count has passed that of Legolas' at last.'

'Only three?' questioned the elf. 'My count is now at four, but _nae!_ The last two escaped me, for the distance between us was far too wide for me to cast my arrows against them.'

'By no fault of yours, I am sure,' said Elessar, 'but nonetheless, these wolves and their riders were on some foul errand. The wolves travel westward, further into Dunland, but where? And to what purpose?' From Roheryn's saddle, Elessar climbed down and went on foot, further over the hill. Legolas leapt from his own mount on Arod and stood beside him, each studying the land ahead to the west. 'Now after a day's tracking, I do not know which course is best,' said Elessar at length. 'Do we drive forwards after the wargs and their riders, or do we stay hither and rest till dawn?'

'If we can find another row or orc heads for my axe to swing at, then all weariness shall be gone from me, even till after tomorrow's dawn,' said Gimli.

'And I would fight with you Gimli,' said Legolas, 'but our steads are yet still tiresome from our travels in the many days behind. They have gone far enough without rest.'

'On foot I would go if I must,' said Gimli. 'Dwarves are better on their own two feet then they are in a saddle.'

'Then you would be running after orcs who have wolf steads to carry them much farther,' answered Legolas

'Ah, sadly that is true,' sighed the dwarf, 'and even if we continued, we cannot track orcs or wolves without the light of day. Perhaps some sleep will do us all good, though I doubt that I will get a wink of it myself tonight.'

'No indeed,' laughed Legolas, 'for a dwarfs' blood is quick to boil in ire, yet will take many hours more before it cools again.'

'And so does an elf's when he is stirred,' said Elessar, 'but still you are right. The light will not last for our hunt. Already the sun has waned greatly in these past hours.' Even as he looked up, the eastern sky was slowly welcoming shadows, and passing into a time of twilight. Elessar looked westward at the sun that was eagerly westering in the sky and saw that the grey light was fading into darkness.

'Gather up our kindling for fires,' he said, his mind made up at length. 'We shall rest here tonight.'

**A/N: Well, there you have it. Chapter One Posted! What do you think? A little slow perhaps, but I promise that the plot and story line will pick up by Chapter Two (with more action included.)**

**Translation: **_**Nae**_** – Alas**


	2. Chapter 2 Shadows Spring

**A/N: Hi! So, so, so sorry that this chapter took so long to update. I've been having some problems with my computer, not to mention my summer ran away from me, and now I'm back at school. Anyways, I know that my first update was pretty boring, so here's something to pick up the pace. And… here is my 1****st**** Tolkien Fun Fact:**

**Tolkien Fun Fact:**During his childhood in the UK, Tolkien liked to visit his Aunt Jane's farm, which was called _Bag End._

**Chapter II - Shadows Spring**

As instructed, the company from Gondor set up the wood which they had brought with them, and set flame to the kindling. Five fires were lit, in a circle around the men and horses. Some of the men worried that the fires would be as a beacon for their enemies to find them, but Elessar said: 'If not before, then they already know that we are here. The orc horn that was blown was loud and shrill. Only a deaf wolf would not hear it.' Thus for defences, the company posted their camp atop the tallest hill and set guardsmen around them to take turns on watch during the night.

There was no tightness in the silence that was about them, only weariness, for they had been tracking orcs for many days on a road that was sought out by King Éomer after reports had reached him of bands of orcs crossing his lands, and not only in Rohan but in Gondor as well. A troubling matter it was to those who heard it, and so, hunting parties had spread far and wide across Rohan in search of the foul creatures.

The elf lords Elladan and Elrohir had set out themselves to Greenwood to set a bounty upon any orc head found in the allied realms of Middle Earth. Elessar of course had set out with troops of his own, and in due time, he met Éomer's riders with Legolas and Gimli amongst them, and joined their company. Legolas had been visiting Gimli in Aglarond, the dwarf settlement of Rohan, when King Éomer had come and asked for their companionship in his hunt.

Gimli was the lord of Aglarond, but he brought no other dwarves with him, for he worried that their hunt might bring them into Gondor, and perhaps near Asgarnen, Ithilien, the elven settlement of Gondor. Though the feud between elves and dwarves was ended in Legolas' and Gimli's hearts, others from their colonies thought otherwise and still held stubborn grudges (despite their lords' reasoning's.) True, no ill treatment was ever given to Legolas or Gimli by either of their kin, but still, the resentment between their races was not completely dowsed, and the elves would spare no courtesy for any other dwarf, nor would the dwarves act likewise to the elves. A respected alliance between the two races would take in itself much patience on both sides. As such, Gimli _did _order out troops of dwarves on a separate hunt, but ordered them not to leave the borders of Rohan. Éomer also spared two riders to send a message from Legolas to Asgarnen bearing similar command: to search for orcs, but not to leave the realm of Gondor.

Weeks had passed, and in that time, three different bands of orcs had been scouted and charged upon, and now the company had split into two parties, tracking the last of the orcs which fled into Dunland.

Ere the day was completely gone, the men piled the dead carcases, orcs and wolves alike, and burned them at the farthest reach of their camp, with Gimli assisting to start the fires.

'Oft have I marveled at the skills of dwarves and their stone work,' said Hatalmá, who watched Gimli as he struck a spark out of two stones. 'Now am I to envy their fire making also?'

'I would not say so,' answered the dwarf. 'Working flames is but a simple task which my kin learn in the young ages of our lives, even before we learn to hold a hammer and chisel. If the simple youth of my kind can spark a fire over the wettest of turf, then I am sure, any man can learn the same.

'You speak humbly of your work Master Dwarf,' said Hatalmá, 'yet in mere seconds, you have already struck a fire out of two flint stones, and still you speak of it as child's play.'

'Nay, not child's play,' stated Gimli. 'This is the work of many nights within the deepest of caverns, where the only light to be seen is the light that we make for ourselves.'

'And who would teach you?'

'Why, my elder kin of course,' answered the dwarf. 'The craft of our skills has been taught and retaught for many an age, from the very hands of Durin the Deathless himself.'

'Then it is a craft to envy by men,' said Hatalmá, 'and by one as I, who cannot build one as skillfully.'

'Well,' said Gimli, 'if ever you decide to come to Aglarond, dear Hatalmá, send word to me at once and I will gladly teach you the ways of fire myself, and then you shall have no reason to envy me.'

'Such an honour it would be indeed,' answered Hatalmá. 'When time is fit for me, I will come, if leave is given to me by my king.'

'I do not doubt that he would give it,' said Gimli, 'and if not, then I shall have to have a word with him, one that he would regret more than I.'

The pyre of the orcs burned well, but reeked with the blistering flesh of their fell bodies, hence Gimli and Hatalmá left it and walked beside the fire where the king rested. King Elessar was crouched in the short grass with Legolas, watching the red glow of their fire, when Hatalmá and Gimli approached them. 'My lord Elessar,' said Hatalmá, 'three wolves, and three orcs have been killed this day. Would you ask it of us to sound six horn cries in answer to what the king of Rohan has bided?'

'Nay, let us wait till morrow's light, when the orcs do not wander as swiftly,' the king answered. 'For now we will rest.' Hatalmá bowed once more, and then departed from their presence. Gimli stayed behind with them and sat down next to the elf. He looked back towards the east, and there, he saw that only the very pricks of pine trees could be seen rising upward from whence they had come, but now they were far away. Elessar was no longer clad in armour, for he had taken it off revealing beneath his mail, the garb of the Ithilien rangers. There he pulled out his pipe and sat idly by the flames of the fire.

'It is strange I think that you do not choose one names for yourself over the many that you have,' said Legolas. 'Here the men of your city call you Elessar, yet by King Éomer, you are still named Aragorn.'

'Yes and it is baffling,' said Gimli 'two years of companionship and sixteen of friendship, and I still do not know what to call you.'

'Call me what you will Master Dwarf,' said Elessar, 'for I am both Elessar and Aragorn. My names have meaning only to those who speak them. I shall be whichever you see most befitting.'

'Will you?' asked Gimli, and the king nodded, 'well then, you are Aragorn, and that is what I will call you.'

'And so shall I,' said Legolas. Aragorn smiled, and bowed his head in response.

'So be it,' he said, and chewed the end of his pipe. Gimli also drew out his pipe and blew smoke rings out of it. Legolas watched them for a while in silence ere the dwarf spoke again.

'I wonder now,' he began, 'you are named Aragorn and Elessar, yet I do remember that you have another name. Strider, I think it is.'

'Indeed,' said Aragorn, 'that is what I was named in the village of Bree, where there, our dear friends from the Shire joined in my company.'

'Ah, three names then,' said Gimli 'and that is all I think, less you have more hidden names which I do not know.'

'He does,' said Legolas. 'He is Estel, Hope in the tongue of my people. That was his name in his younger youth, or so the lords Elladan and Elrohir tell me.'

'Estel?' questioned Gimli. 'Yes, that is a fitting name for you I think, and now you have four titles. Are there any others to call you by.'

'Thorongil,' said a new voice. Behind them a young man stood, still clad in his armour, when most of the men had taken it off. Aredain was his name, a knight of Gondor. The king smiled in welcome to the man, and bade him to sit by them. Aradain was hesitant at first, but sat down nonetheless.

'Bâledain's son, I am glad of your company, for it is alike to your father's, a man whose friendship I remember well.'

'And so did he lord,' answered Aredain, 'and he was glad to see thee in his final days. Oft did he tell stories of his wise and noble captain to me when I was young.'

'A captain was he now?' asked Gimli. 'Will you tell us more?'

'Only of what I know, for it was before my days when he was a leader of the soldiers in Gondor. Many a story is told of the great Captain Thorongil throughout Minus Tirith, of his bravery and of the love all men had for him'

'I think now that there are many stories of your king, alike and not alike,' said Legolas to Aredain. 'His name may be changed in them, yet they all speak the same of him, for he is the same man, be he a ranger, a captain, or a king.'

'And of some I have heard myself,' said Aredain, 'but my father's stories were more truthful then other's. He was a soldier under his command, and followed him through many an adventure.'

'Your father was a good man,' said Aragorn. 'His wit and courage were enough to outmatch ten of the same trained men. Come, tell me again what Bâledain said to you those years ago after the siege upon Minus Tirith.'

'When you came to the White City and healed the many dying, he watched from his window where oft he would sit by in those dark times. But when he saw thee walking on the street, he smiled and said to me:

"Boy, find me my walking stick and go and trade it for a sword!"

"But Father,' said I, "The attack upon this city is over, and if another comes, there are none to lead us into battle." And then he laughed and pointed out his window, where I looked and saw thee.

"There is one who may lead us," he said. "There my son, is from whom our victory shall be brought by. Captain Thorongil in here. He has come to save his city." I was only a lad then, but still I remember that day.'

'Yes, I remember,' said Aragorn, 'Even as an old man, Bâledain still had some spirit left in him. When he left this world, I grieved for him, but also did I rejoice that his son had come of age to join with the soldiers of Gondor.'

'And I was glad to follow under the command of my king, who is also the same Captain Thorongil who is a legend spoken of by the old men Minus Tirith.'

'Thorongil,' said Gimli, sounding the name on his lips as another puff of smoke floated from his pipe. 'Well, that is five names now. It will be a marvel to me if any can match the same count of names as you, or do you yet have any more names.'

'Nay, there are none left unsaid Gimli,' said Aragorn, 'and there was but one who could outmatch my titles, and he was Gandalf, but alas, never will he return to the lands of Middle Earth, where the world misses him so.' They all fell silent in thought. A stillness had come over them, and Legolas began to hum. To Gimli and Aragorn, the tune was distant, yet familiar, grieving and sorrowful. They had heard it before. He sung no words at first, yet as the tune went on, more men began to listen, even if they did not turn their heads, they remained still, and heard the song, and their minds were filled with wonder and sadness. Then at length, Legolas sang a verse:

_O in amar, Mithrandir gwanwen._

_Milui a golwen hon anes,_

_Dan hi hon mana bannen._

_Nai, e hair ter in __firin fennas._

_Hon thel al ad dadwen._

The singing ceased and the stillness of the night crept back over the travelling company. 'There is many a man in Gondor who has learned to speak in the elvish tongue since your kin have settled in Ithilien,' said Aredain, 'but alas, I am one who hasn't. But the song was of Mithrandir, was it not? In it, his name was sung.'

'Yes, of Gandalf it was,' said Gimli 'A verse from the lament sung for him in Lothlorien.'

'And all that I can recount of it,' said Legolas. 'I have forgotten the rest. I remembered only this, for it was only that verse that played itself through my mind.'

'I did not understand it at the time, but now it is much clearer to me,' said Gimli. '_"Gandalf is gone – passed through deaths gates – he will not return."_ Though I did not know the words then, it was all I could think of in my own mind.' Legolas turned to Gimli, surprised, but smiled lightly and patted the dwarf's shoulder.

'You are learning well, Gimli,' he said. 'I did not think that my tongue yet came so easily to you.'

'Not yet, no,' answered the dwarf, 'but it is as we agreed: I will let myself be taught the language of the elves, if you will let me teach you the speech of Khuzdûl, and I have been practising a fair deal for your sake.'

'And I for yours,' laughed Legolas, 'but let us not learn too swiftly. How much do you thus know?'

'Little, I regret to say,' replied Gimli. The elf laughed once more as he stood from his place near the fire, and gazed up at the stars. At length, he glanced down at Gimli again and spoke:

'_Galu. __Pedin i phith in aníron, a nin ú-cheniathog.'_

'And what does that mean?' Gimli asked, but the elf only smiled again and walked onward to the other edge of their camp leaving the dwarf without an answer. 'Where do you think you're off to Master Elf! Come back!' Gimli called out stubbornly. The dwarf stood up in an ungainly action, following Legolas in his wake, but just as the elf was nearing the north-east end of the company's camp, he halted, so suddenly that Gimli almost walked into him. Yet just as the dwarf was about to say something of it, the elf lifted up a tense arm to silence him.

'Hush! Make not a sound,' said the elf, peering father into the thickness of the night.

'What is it?' questioned Gimli, but Legolas paid him no heed.

'Aragorn, _nad no ennas!__'_ he beckoned, his voice a deep whisper compared to the soft light hearted tone that it often was. Hastily, the king stood, and by now had stridden up to where the elf and dwarf had posted themselves.

'_Mani naa ta Mellon nin?_' asked Aragorn. Legolas stood there in silence, gazing yonder over the hills with his far sight.

'_Lum presta i dû_,' uttered Legolas.

'_Lum ui escal i ennorath ir Anor losta_.'

'_Sin lum anglenna ammen na um thelion._'

'_Man cenich?_'

'In Durin's name!' cried Gimli 'speak the common tongue for the rest of us. What is it that you are saying?' Aredain was standing behind them, listening, but could understand little of what was said. Yet even as Gimli had spoken, the elf bounded backwards, almost knocking him over again. An urgent light flashed in his eyes as he ran swiftly to Arod and cried aloud:

'_Yrch, yrch! Vín __melloneamin__ ier vi tass!_' Now, even Gimli the dwarf stiffened with vigilance, for though he still knew little of the elvish tongue, he knew at least the common word for _yrch_.

'Orcs!' he said, hefting his axe from his belt. Then lo! Far off on the eastern side of their party, both man and dwarf could hear at last what the elf had sensed. Arrow strings rippled the air, swords clashed and clanged together, shattering the stillness that was once before in the night. Curdling cries screeched rang up, up, over all the hills in Dunland, and with it, the horns of Rohan sounded endlessly in the night. Battle had arisen, against the Éored of Éomer King.

'They must be aided,' shouted Aragorn, thus leaping forward onto his stead and drawing forth the white fire of Anduril. 'To arms men of Gondor!' he commanded, and his men sprang up, weapons pulled from their sheaths, leaping onto the mounts of their horses. In a graceful motion, Legolas flew onto Arod before Gimli was gauchely pulled up with him, sitting behind the elf atop the stead.

Down and over the hills, the host charged, following the cries of battle that were heard in the storm ahead of them. _'Elendil!'_ shouted Aragon, and over the final hill he rode, whereupon between the brink of the hillside and the forest, there lay the attack.

Blood was not the smell of death. Death fumed its own reek, one which was thick and heavy in the air that night. Death was the smell that they had come upon them first, and then they had found Éomer's company. Empty eyes stared up at them, for many of the horsemen lay slaughtered upon the field of battle. Few numbers still fought against the orcs, and even fewer had found mounts upon their horses during the rush of the fray. King Éomer was one who fought upon the ground. There he held his stance alone wielding a spear in one hand, and his sword in the other.

Aragorn did not hesitate to drive his men through the first lines of the enemy, and from there he rode to Éomer's side, where he fought against the orcs. To his left, Legolas rode over the cluster of orcs, his bow singing as arrows flew from its string. Gimli was not with him, but fought on the trampled ground, hewing heads with each swing of his axe. High did Aragorn's sword rise, and hard did it fall upon their foes, but even the flame of Anduril could not withstand against three hundred orcs, for indeed that was the number which they faced. The disadvantage was there's and Aragorn could see well the dismay that was clouded over their men. He could see no victory for them.

'Pull back!' he cried 'Pull back to Rohan!' The men of Gondor and of Rohan wasted no time riding along the battle ground and hoisting up any remaining men who held their stances on two feet. Too many had fallen they knew, and too great were the numbers against them. The king's men opened a gap for them all to escape through. The path from there would lead them northward back to the countries of the free people, or so Aragorn thought. But then he heard the wargs.

Wolves and their riders swept over the hills from the south, he knew not how many, for he didn't count, but they were enough to cut off their retreat. They could not pull back now, at least not to the north. Aragorn swept his gaze to and fro, but the only path that was left open for them was the path into the forest, from whence the orcs had come from. _'Into the woods!'_ he cried in the speech of the Riddermark, and then again in the Sindarin tongue. Those who knew the languages retreated there by his command, whilst the rest began to follow behind. Aragorn was soon to retreat as well, when he saw that Éomer did not turn to flee. The king remained, fighting against the foul villains which attacked him. His horse was gone, and he was alone with none aiding him. Aragorn did not understand this.

'Éomer!' he called, riding forth to the king's side, wielding his sword beside him. 'There's too many of them. Fall back my friend!'

'Fight with me Aragorn!' he answered, 'Here we will forge our greatest victory.' Éomer fought on, his blood boiling in the heat of battle, and a fiery hatred springing in his eyes.

'That is folly,' cried Aragorn. 'We will fail if we linger. Pull Back!' He reached his empty hand down for Éomer to grasp and to be pulled up onto his horse, but the king did not take it. 'Éomer!' he pleaded, but he did not heed him, for the vie of his fighting was beyond all reasoning words that the king of Gondor could voice. A new line of orcs swept upon then, wielding a thicket of spears. Aragorn raised his sword and drove the first wave of them away. 'Shine flame of the west,' he chanted. 'Andúril! Andúril for the Dúnedain!'

The orcs backed away in fright against the king of Gondor in his fury. Éomer joined him, smiting every orc that came near, but then the tides of battle had turned higher against them, and a second wave of spears advances out of the dark. Two he felled by his sword and then another. Éomer's spear clashed against the sword of one, and shattered at the spine, and then, a dim and pale light caught his eye and turned to see what it was. That very moment, the rusted tip of a spear flew towards him, aimed for his heart. Éomer shot himself to the side, but dodged to late and cold spear head struck him, delving into his shoulder. He shouted out against the pain and fell backwards. The spear's shaft snapped as he landed on the ground. He shouted out against the pain, and then the orc who had flung the spear sprang at him.

Aragorn, who saw this, came quickly to the king's aid and leapt from his saddle, hurling himself onto of the orc. It shrieked as Anduril was pierced through its back, and crippled beneath him. Aragorn stood and faced Éomer, but now he stood much taller than the horse lord and seemed only to grow taller in majesty and strength. Without further plea in his voice, Aragorn, Elessar, Isildur's heir and the king of Gondor, took Éomer's un-maimed armed, and pushed him towards the trees, speaking in a tone so commanding, that any lesser man would have cowered beneath him. 'This battle is over. Run now while there is yet a chance to escape with your life. Run!'

Éomer stumbled toward two steps and looked back one last time, but fled at last, sprinting into the woods. Aragorn ran after him, but stumbled to the earth, for an orc had sprang at his feet, reached out it's foul hands and tripped him. Soon two more orcs were on top of him. He swung his blade to drive them away, but a vile claw seized his wrist and drove it against the ground. A heavy blow then struck Aragorn's arm and Anduril was snatched from his grip. A dark and cold blade pressed against his neck, and the fouler looking orc who held it, glared villainously at him.

Just then an arrow whizzed out of the darkness, piercing through the orcs neck. It fell with a shriek and the others scattered. Legolas appeared, riding on Arod, shooting the last of his arrows into the nearest orcs. 'Fly Aragorn, our enemy is too great!' he shouted. Another arrow flew from his string, killing yet another orc in its flight. Gimli was nowhere to be seen, yet Aragorn could still hear the dwarf's cries of battle as he sprang to his feet. 'We will retreat,' said Legolas ere Aragorn could speak, 'but so must you. Run now!'

The wall of orcs thickened, with twenty more of the foul creatures, and Aragorn was weaponless. He could not remain. He knew then that their foe had out mastered them, in both strength and numbers. There would be no victory, and so he ran, onward into the shadows, where the trees where his only defence, and as he fled, he shouted to the men who still remained in the battle: 'retreat!'

At his heals the orcs gained, but in front of him, he saw his horse Roheryn, and there, Aragorn leapt onto his saddle and rode away. Two orcs ran to cut off his escape, but he dodged them swiftly, riding fast, and faltering only once to look behind him where he could still hear the ringing of battle, as men and orcs fell, and the last standing of his men shouted to pull back. Distant hooves chiselled the soil and dry turf in all directions. Horses and men fled everywhere, with enemies at their tails. The black speech of orcs hollered and cheered behind Aragorn, but he did not look back again as he rode on.

The battle was ended, and they were defeated.

**A/N: Oh dear! Suspense! I am struggling not to put up Chapter Three right now as well. I've finished it, but I think I'm going to wait for a couple of days, just to give myself a head start on Chapter Four. My apologies again for not posting this chapter sooner, and more apologies for the not so very fluent elvish language. Again, I only speak English and Sign Language.**

**Translations:**

_**O in amar Mithrandir gwanwen**_** – From the world, Mithrandir departed**

_**Milui a golwen hon anes**_** – Kind and wise he was**

_**Dan hi hon mana bannen**_** – But now he is gone**

_Nai, e hair ter in __**firin fennas**_** – Alas, he left through the mortal gateway**

_**Hon thel al ad dadwen**_** – He will not return.**

**_Galu. Pedin i phith in aníron, a nin ú-cheniathog_**– **Good.** **I can say what I wish, and you won't understand me**

**Aragorn, ****_nad no ennas!_**** – Aragorn, something's out there****!**

_**Mani naa ta mellon nin?**_** – What is it my friend?**

_**Lum presta i dû**_** – Shadows disturb the dark.**

_**Lum ui escal i ennorath ir Anor losta**_** – Shadows always cover the lands of Middle Earth when the sun sleeps.**

_**Sin lum anglenna ammen na um thelion.**_** – These shadows approach us with evil purposes.**

_**Man cenich?**_** – What do you see?**

_**Yrch, yrch! Vín **__**melloneamin**__** ier vi tass!**_** – Orcs, orcs! Our friends are in danger!**


	3. Chapter 3 Two Travellers

**A/N: Hey, you know how annoying it is when you reach a cliff hanger and then the next chapter after that moves away from those particular characters and goes straight to another group of characters? Tolkien did that a lot in the LOTR didn't he? Hehehe… (Sorry, I know it's short)**

**Tolkien Fun Fact: **It is rumoured amongst fans that the giant spiders of Middle Earth were created because of the experience Tolkien had as a boy in Africa when he encountered a tarantula spider.

**Chapter 3: Two Travellers**

Meanwhile, in another part of Dunland,_ two riders_ made camp off the beaten road, and in a shrubbery of trees. They did not bother to light a fire at all, for they were both happily fed, and had fine elven cloaks to shield them from the cold. After their _ponies_ were tended to, they sang quiet songs from their homeland before deciding that the night was late enough for them to get some sleep. The first traveller rolled himself up in his blanket and cloak before drifting off, while the other lay on his back and looked up at the stars.

The night seemed very peaceful, however, neither of them had long lasting sleep that night, for just as the second traveller was about to shut his eyes, he heard a faint clamour of distant noises. Sitting up, he turned his head to where he had heard it, and saw behind the far off trees, many lights that were lit in a good heavy number.

'_Those are torches,'_ he realized. _'But the wild men never show themselves so openly. Who else is in these lands?' _Though the lights were still dim and far from them, the traveller woke his companion and signalled him to follow.

'Who are they?' said the first traveller, 'and what are they doing here?'

'I don't know,' said the second. 'But let's not show ourselves too soon. I don't want to run into any trouble.'

As the travellers cautiously approached the other camp, they began to hear the foul voices of orcs being uttered in the same direction. At this, they would have maybe abandoned their curiosity, left their camp, and look for a safer road to travel on, but what lured their interest was that these orcs spoke in the common tongue. This could only mean one thing to them: that they were listening to the gathering of different bands, for only when the enemy cannot understand each other would they will use ordinary language to communicate. Also they heard men speaking. Ruffians they sounded like to the travellers, the same as the ones they had encountered many years ago.

With their cloaks shielding the sight of their heads and their hands gripped upon their weapons, they took cover behind an uprooted tree and listened to the words that were being said between the two races. by now they were near enough to see the different clangs together and could hear most of what was said in the camp.

'Why should we care what you have to do? Our job has been done!' squealed one orc. Clearly a quarrel had been aroused between their bands.

"Foul orc filth!' cursed one of the men "Trying to make our work more difficult are yee? Your job was to cut their throats, not to scatter em."

"Poor work it was, now look what you've done," said another man. "We'll all have our necks rung by the end of this."

"Well if our way of business is so _"poor,"_' snarled a different orc 'why don't you just go and kill them yourselves?'

"Yeah! From what I see, you're just letting us do all the dirty work." Shouts of the dark orc language sprang in the camp, filled with hate and anger.

The travellers listened to it in fright, keeping hidden behind the rotting trunk, but now they were more curious than ever.

'What party? What are they talking about?' whispered one of the travellers.

'Shush! Let me listen,' said the other. They continued spying on the camp for a while, watching the quarrel between the men and orcs grow hotter, and then cool again.

"You just don't enjoy a bit of good sport!" spat out the first orc "they're out there somewhere, and there ain't that many of em. The rest have run off back to the horse planes.

"If that's what you think our chiefs will want, then we'll let you have the honour of telling them yourselves that you let the king run off as _good sport_ for them to hunt" argued the man before he spat into the ground. "A hundred riders against three hundred of your filth? Oh yeah, they'll think that's real nice. I'm surprised that you didn't let em all get away."

"Well their king ain't riding back with em," answered the orc "we attacked the first lot that we saw, but they split up and took us by surprise, but ain't many of em live through it. If that horse scum was with em, he's either dead or somewhere in these parts trying to crawl his way back to the horse land."

'They're speaking of King Éomer,' whispered first traveller.

'Shush!' Came the only reply from his companion.

"Stupid waste!" said the man, now raising his voice back to the same extreme as their last disagreement. "How do we know that you didn't just go off and attack the wrong fellas? The king could've been with the second party, and now returning to the Riddermark." At this, the two leading orcs exchange wicked grins between each other.

"Oh but he ain't," said one of them "that's where we got ourselves a little bonus." That same orc then turned behind him, bellowing orders to the rest of his gang. Shortly after, one of them approached carrying the ragged pelt of a dead beast. Within it, something was wrapped; by its familiar shape, both travellers quickly assumed that it was a covered blade. Bitterly, the orc grasped onto the pelt and ripped it away, revealing for all eyes a lengthy blade recognizable by both clangs, and the travellers, who knew its name very well, identifying the sword in utter disbelief.

_Anduril, of the shards of Narsil. The sword of King Elessar._

"Plucked this off one of em in the second lot. He and some other fellas ran off into the woods. Gondorian scum, he was." The foul creature handed the blade to the man, glad to be rid of it, for it bared a heavy elven feel that he so hated. The man avidly stretched his unworthy fingers around the hilt of the sword and lifted it humorously.

"So the king of Gondor is in the strewn eh? How fitting I wonder would it be for the bane of the king to be the same as his uprising?" he said, curling a cold grin on his embittered lips. "Sport you say? Then sport we'll make em. Find them lot and bag em. Bring them back to Trohh Mizt, alive if you can manage it, Orc. Our chiefs will want to be certain if it is the kings that we've got, otherwise I'll make sure that it's your head that replaces em. They'll say nothing to us dead. No mistakes this time!'

The men in the camp sniggered and laughed amongst themselves; a cruel sound it was to hear for the on-looking travellers that were watching them. Where was Trohh Mizt, they wondered, and who else was scattered with the kings' men? The travellers turned to one another nodded their heads in silent agreement, then emerged from their cover and crept silently towards their own camp. They had heard enough from this gathering.

At that moment, luck changed against them, and as they followed their own trail in quiet haste back to their camp, one of _ponies_ whinnied, alerting the orcs and men of their whereabouts.

"What 'ave we got 'ere" the travellers heard from behind them.

"Over there! That's where they are!"

Noises from the camp broke out so suddenly that the two travellers knew that the only time given to them was in flight. With tightly choked grips still grasped on their sword, the travellers dashed to the side, forsaking their camp and running deeper into the trees. The light stepping of their quick_ feet_ made little noise against the dry fern layered ground, which was good for them both, for neither could run at lengthy speed. Thus they trusted only that they would not be found, pulling their _elven cloaks_ further over their heads. The second traveller looked back to where their camp had been as he heard the helpless cries of their ponies.

"_Poor beasts,"_ thought the traveller _"Poor stupid beasts."_

**A/N: Oops. I think I might have made these two travellers a little **_**too**_** obvious, but I want to hear your guesses anyway. Who do you think they are? Please, **_**please**_** Review.**


	4. Chapter 4 Four Is Company

**A/N: I'm starting to wonder if my life is trying to prevent me from updating this. If my computer isn't busy trying to crash, then **_**I'm**_** too busy studying for a math test which I seem to be getting every week now. Fear not though. If you thought that elves and dwarves were stubborn, then you clearly haven't met me. I ****REFUSE**** to leave my work unfinished.**

**Oh, by the way, if anyone wants to check out my trailer for this fanfict, it's on YouTube under **_**The Shield of Undómiel **_**or **_**Katherine Everdeen**_**. (Warning: Contains Spoilers.)**

**Tolkien Fun Fact: **Did you know that the name Tolkien is of German origin which translates into _"Fool Hardy?"_ Why is this ironic? Because of the Tooks!

***MOVIE SCENE***

**Merry:** He's always' followed me, everywhere I went, since before we were tweens. I would get him into the worst sort of trouble, but I was always there to get him out. Now he's gone. Just like Frodo and Sam.

**Aragorn:** One thing I have learned about hobbits: they're a most hardy folk.

**Merry:** _Fool Hardy_, maybe. He's a Took.

**Chapter 4: Four Is Company**

By early morning the dawn was lit, with a sun more red than any Gimli or Legolas had been seen since the great rein of Peace began. Gimli sat behind the elf on Arod as they approached for the first time the remains of Éomer's camp. Many of the men who lay dead were of Rohan, and others also from Gondor which Legolas and Gimli had both learned to know well.

'Alas,' said Legolas 'the dead lie in a number too great for what I wish to count.'

'Any number is too high for my count,' said Gimli 'I should like to see none, but that cannot be said here. Look! There is Éothain, dead among those of the Éored, and poor Hatalmá, his body is also here. He was to come back with us to the Glittering caves of Aglarond, where I would have taught him to forge and master fire. Curse the foul breed of orc! Those filths came to us in a number that I would well guess to be hundreds.'

'Yes, three hundred,' said Legolas 'I know not how many are left, but perhaps we will find out, after the dead are seen to.'

'But surely you cannot hope to give them all a burial,' said Gimli, 'there are too many for this dwarf to tend to, even if he is with an elf.'

'There may be,' answered Legolas 'yet my heart will not be eased of this grief if we do not see to their bodies.'

'And how do you plan to do that?' said Gimli. 'There is no time to lay rocks upon them in a stone house, and we have nothing to bury them with. A fire is the simplest choice, but these men are too worthy to be piled on top of one another in a pyre.' Legolas was silent for a moment while he remained in thought, but said at last:

'What would they ask of us, I wonder, if they had yet the breath to speak? It is a burdening thought that I have no such strength to bear. You are right Gimli. Our time is better spent in search for the living, and for Aragorn and Éomer, but to leave the dead here is to be thoughtless of the time in which they were living. As I look upon their sightless eyes, my thoughts become the memories of when those eyes were lit in the bright colors of life. Though some of them we knew not, shall we leave their bodies to decay with no such memorable worth? Let us at least lie them in sleep with swords upon their breasts and shields and helmets at their feet'

'Aye, that will be good,' signed Gimli. 'I also grieve to this ill fortune, but perhaps when the rest of the living men are returned to Gondor and Rohan, we may come hither to honour them properly.'

'I will go with you then, Gimli, though with much sorrow,' answered Legolas, 'but wither now is no mystery to me. We know what we must do. The men of Gondor and Rohan are scattered. Into the woods I saw them fly, and that is where we must go.'

'Indeed we must,' said the dwarf 'but come. As you have thus spoken already, there is the dead here lying that must be set to sleep. As two, the work will be made a lighter burden. See to the fallen men Legolas, and whilst that is done, I will drag the carcases of these foul monstrosities and pile them for the crows to feast off of.' At his feet, he kicked a heavy boot against the body of a felled orc, and cursed their dark breed again. 'Perhaps when the ravens have had their fill of orc, they will leave these noble warriors in peace.'

'Perhaps,' sighed Legolas, and so their grieving work began.

The task was burdening to their hearts and aching to their backs, but nonetheless it was done for their fallen men of arms, and also to see if any wounded lay there. But to their despair, there were none so lucky. Gimli also searched for signs of whether Aragorn or Éomer were among the dead. He feared as much when he was separated from them as he retreated over the hills with Legolas.

'You will not find them here,' assured the elf, resting a sword upon Éothain's breast. 'I shot down the orcs who chased Aragorn, and he fled into the woods by my bidding. But I only saw King Éomer briefly and I cannot give such good news of him. Even in the dark, I could see the blood staining his tunic, and he clutched his arm close against his breast. I fear that he is wounded, yet I cannot say what danger it is to him; but at least they were both living and sought out cover in the trees. There we will find them, I think.'

'Dead or alive I wonder,' said Gimli.

'I fear I do not know,' answered Legolas. He lined up the dead in the order of the land that they served, placing helmets and shields at their feet and closing the lids of their eyes. Hatalmá was the last to be seen to, and when Legolas closed his eye, he kissed his brow and whispered a prayer over his body. _'Ma' ci gar ui sîdh.'_ Quietly, he stood away from the dead who lay between the hills and the forest. Then his voice crept up, and he began to sing:

'_Where the banners of their homelands fly they do not sleep_

_Their lives are lost to them, but their honour they will keep_

_I saw them aside their valiant kings riding on waves of steads_

_And further north, I saw them fall. I shan't forget their deeds._

_To rid the world of evil, they rode, they fought, and were slain_

_They will not return to their lands, nor will they wake again._

_In the hills of Dunland, there they lie forever more_

_I grieve for Rohan's proud sons and the men of Gondor.'_

By the end of their labour, Gimli had plunked himself onto the rocky ground and stared thoughtlessly towards the sleeping men, whose armor still shimmered beneath the red dawn. 'King Éomer is not such a man to retreat, even if he were to lock his sight with the cold face of death itself. What state should it be that we find him in? If we find him.'

'We will only know if we search,' answered Legolas, 'that will be our first mark, and the last will be to stand by our friends and kings.' Gimli nodded in agreement and hobbled to his stout feet, gesturing a light heave of his axe, as a sign to begin their search.

'Which way then Master Elf?' He asked. Legolas pondered towards the dry earth in a thorough study of the fading tracks upon the rough pebbles and shrivelled soil. At length, the elf shot his bright, keen eyes towards a dim opening in the pine wood and walked along the trail of two faint footprints among many others. However, though a wood elf he was, he was not as skilled in tracking as Aragorn.

'Alas,' he said, after stooping over the stones and dirt, 'I am no such ranger who may read the markings of the earth as out of the pages of a book, but I have seen at least where it was that they fled from. Here are their tracks, I think, and forward towards the east is where I saw them run. The orc tracks did not follow so much thither, but went northward instead. Their tracks are deeper and trample over all living things on and off of their path.'

'Then east is where we will go,' said Gimli. 'From hunters to prey we have been labeled as, but now it is time to change our titles again. Not to hunters, but to trackers, until the men of Gondor and Rohan are discovered, and our friends found.'

'Yes, but we must be wary,' said Legolas, as he stood, and peered forwards until his head was bowed before the woods, listening for any signs that may be useful to them. 'The forest is quiet,' he said at length. 'There is malice hidden somewhere, waiting to spring. Of orcs and other foul things, I can only guess. Evil is stirring nearby. We may find more in these woods than orcs and more even than men if our guard is set at ease.'

'If that is what you say Master Elf, then I will not keep my axe in its belt at all, but rather carry it at hand and ready to heave at the necks of our enemies when we meet. I hope also that you will not run out of arrows when you are at need to fire them'

'That I shall also hope for Gimli,' answered Legolas. 'Come my friend, we must begin this hour if we are to find any man alive, or to avenge their deaths if we fail.'

'Indeed, let us go,' said Gimli. 'But find a proper saddle for that beast of yours first. My limbs tire of riding upon its bare back.'

Legolas smiled wanly, but nonetheless, found a saddle to Gimli's liking. It was light, and upon it, they strapped a bag and found food and rations fit to last for many days; and so, their search began. They rode eastward for almost a furlong, but stopped when one set of footprints changed to the markings of a horse's prints, and the other set turned away from the first, and made their way northwards.

'Which do we follow now?' asked the dwarf.

'I do not know,' said Legolas. 'To follow either is both promising and bleak, for we would be straying away from one of our companions.'

'But one of them, it looks like, has now a horse, and those tracks would be easiest to follow.'

'Yet they are already being served by better fortune for having a stead to ride, while the other has been set to travel on his own two feet, where he is in greater peril.'

'He also travels towards peril, so it would seem by his direction. Was north not where the orcs first came from?'

Northeast, and west. Whichever way we choose, we will ride into peril ourselves, but of these markings, one will need aid, more than the other. The man on foot is easier prey to the enemy if he meets them.' Gimli pondered for a moment, looking down at both trails, first to the ones of the horse that went east, and then to the other set of tracks that turned north. After much thought, he huffed and nodded to Legolas.

'Very well then,' said Gimli. 'Northwards we shall go,' and thus north they went.

They followed the tracks through most of that day, stopping only briefly to read their signs again for any new news. Hours passed, and as they continued their tracking, the sky began to brew with the dark shapes of clouds, as the threat of rainfall made itself known above their heads. The tree shadows about them sank gloomily over the forest, and the bowing pine braches hung low near their faces. Many times, Legolas had to duck to avoid the reaches of their swiping needles, but still they pressed onward.

At length they reached a point where the set of footprints had halted and circled about an open glade. A reeking smell reached their noses, and Legolas stepped down from Arod's saddle to examine the prints.

A few paces forward, Legolas noted how the bushes were bent and crushed by some weight that had fallen on them. Nothing remained there now, even so, he searched around them, and what he saw, became grim findings. Blood spoiled the ground beneath the growth, staining leaves and branches to the right side where the bushes parted.

'A wounded man walked through here,' said Legolas. 'Here, I think, he came to hide, but was seen, and ran. Back this way he came.' The elf immerged again from the growth and followed the trail which lead south. He wandered down a path, and into the trees, where to Gimli's eyes, he had almost vanished. Suddenly, the elf gave a cry, and called back to him: 'Come Gimli, see what I have found.'

Not so nimbly, he tried to pull himself out of the saddle, when Arod took two paces forward, knocking the dwarf off of his back. After mumbling some words that were unintelligible to both elf and horse, he followed to the place where Legolas awaited him, and was met with a foul odour. Three bodies, all of orcs, were sprawled across the ground, the scent of their carcases fetid and rotting in the air.

'This was not the end of a quarrel between themselves,' said Legolas. 'Look here. See how the man's tracks charge and mingle with those of the orcs. He did not run from those who spotted him, but battled them instead.' Legolas lifted his hand, and there Gimli saw placed within it, the rusted head of a spear, bearing both red and black blood; yet when Gimli looked around, he did not find any shaft from a broken spear.

'I have guessed now who it is that we are tracking,' said Legolas, in answer to the dwarfs' puzzled look. 'It is Éomer, and here is the shard of the spear which maimed him. It explains why I saw him clutching his shoulder.'

'And what of it, now that he has pulled it from his wound?'

'Well,' said Legolas, pondering for a moment. 'He made good use it against these creatures. I found the spear head driven into the body of the first orc, and now its sword is gone.'

'And thus shows the everlasting strength of the king of Rohan,' answered Gimli. 'Now that he is with a sword, I almost pity the next orc that he shall meet.'

'I do not share your sureness,' said the elf, 'for he is still wounded, and we haven't found him yet.'

'Nor will we at all if this rain flings itself upon us,' said Gimli, looking up at the greying sky which was filled with clouds, and rumbled faintly overhead. 'If there is a greater power at work here, then it does not favor us in the slightest. This rain that is coming will wash away all traces of our friends, if we do not find them before it comes.' Even as he said this, the splatter of soft droplets hit his helmet. Then came the heavy wave of shooting water, spouting from the looming clouds. Thunder crashed and roared with the thirst for battle to begin in the skies, and then came the lightning, hitting the peaks of the mountains east from Gimli and Legolas.

'_Barzûl frekk wurn!'_ Gimli cursed up to the falling rain. Angrily, he shook his first at the sky, shouting many more curses towards the ill rain. In response, the storm's thunder cracked and clashed ever louder, and the lighting shot off of the mountains and landed nearer to them.

'Do not anger the Valar,' warned Legolas. 'We need not further our unkind fortune.'

'It would be better fortune if this rain would decease,' grumbled the dwarf.

'That cannot be helped,' said Legolas. 'Quickly! The tracks are fading. Let us follow them as far as we may, ere they are lost.' Swiftly, the elf ran back to Arod and leapt into his saddle. With simple command, he urged the stead forward, and as he passed by, Legolas reached down and hoisted the dwarf into the saddle with him. Words of protest could be heard from Gimli, but in their quickening haste, the elf did not heed him. Less cautious of the woods was he, now that time had turned against them and the tracks of Éomer were soon to be washed away into the thickening grime of the forest floor. His eyes were keen upon the road ahead, even as it vanished beneath their horse's fast strides. As the rain fell harder, so did the ground begin seep with mud. Splatters of it stained them, yet even as the tracks were gone, they road on.

When a crack of lightning spouted in the trees no more than two furlongs away, the strident sound of bursting wood echoed throughout the forest. To its sound, Arod halted and reared with terror with Gimli only managing not to fall by seizing a grip on the elf's quiver. 'Legolas!' he shouted. 'This deluge will drown us if we are not seared by lightning first!' As Arod stomped down against the dank soil, Legolas slid from his saddle and stood in front of the shaken beast.

_'Sîdh Arod,'_ he whispered, stroked his grey neck. Arod jolted his head as a second shaft of lightning struck the earth again, but the soothing voice of Legolas offered enough peace for the stead to calm as Gimli hopped down from the saddle. 'You are right Gimli,' said the elf. 'There is little more that we may do now, save for finding shelter.'

That night, the two companions rested without comfort. The trees did little to shield away the rain, and even Gimli could not spark a fire, for he could find no wood to do so that was not damp from the rain. When morning came, their spirits were not lifted with it. The trail that they followed had vanished, and now the only road left for them, lay northward in the direction of where King Éomer's tracks had thus far lead. Legolas was less troubled than Gimli by the cold and dampness of their night, but his heart indeed was troubled by their days here, and he was no less eager than the dwarf to find their missing companions.

They scouted for any signs of their kings, but by then would have been glad to see any rider, of noble linage or not. Two days were soon to pass since they had been separated from their company yet hardly a single trace was left of their allies after the storm sent down its fury upon them. They pressed forward eachday until the sun was lowered in the sky, and they could go no further. In that time no sign did they ever seen of Aragorn or Éomer, yet on the fourth night as Gimli slept and Legolas became lost in his ill musings, they were met with a shard of hope.

Far off towards northern regions of the mountains, they heard a horse. Its cry was faint and distant and sounded more than a day's journey ahead of them, but nonetheless, Legolas was drawn to it and on the morning of the fifth day, he told Gimli of what he had heard. Hence, they began their long ride north again, whereupon the fortune of their journey was soon to change.

For six leagues they went, keeping watch around them in hopes to catch any glimpse of a horse, or its riders but none did they see. Gimli was weary of sitting atop the Rohan saddle as his tired limbs wished for nothing more than for him to walk again, but he would not yield to his aching bones when they had yet to find King Éomer and Aragorn. It was passed midday when they had stopped in another open glade, but here, the dwarf became aware that his companion was fingering the handle of his long knife.

'What is it?' whispered Gimli. He received no answer at first, for Legolas' eyes remained fixed to the shadows ahead of them.

'Something is drawing near,' he uttered in a soft voice.

'Orcs?' Gimli murmured, extending a gloved hand over his axe.

'I am not sure,' answered the elf. To this, Gimli raised his eyebrows in wonder.

'And whatever happened to your keep sight?' he questioned.

'I do not know,' replied Legolas, 'but I cannot see them through these trees,' he added almost bitterly, but then he glanced upwards towards the trees. Approaching the tallest that stood in that glade, he nimbly clasped onto the lowest branch and sprang from his saddle, climbing up to the tallest perch where he was lost from Gimli's sight. From this motion, Gimli went backwards and fell from the same saddle. Grumbling beneath his breath, he stood up and marched over to the base of the great tree.

'And what are you doing!' said Gimli craning his head to try and find the elf amidst the green needles. 'What need have you to disappear into the trees now?'

'To see above them,' Legolas called down. 'I have told you that I am at home among trees. Up here I may see better than I shall in the glade.'

'And what shall come of it if we are attacked and you remain busy in the branches?'

'Then your count of kills shall pass mine yet again,' came the elf's answer.

Grumbling to himself again, the dwarf stood on guard, awaiting any trouble which could emerged from the unseen places of the woods. Arod remained close to him, and Gimli watched wearily as the beast's ears twitched to sounds unheard by him. Someone was indeed nearby, and closer than he had deemed. Be they friend or foe, Gimli could not tell; nonetheless, he kept always a finger close to his axe, ready to hoist it from his belt if necessary.

Soon though, the dwarf became impatient for the Legolas to return to the solid earth, and made no effort in hiding it. Hours it seemed to him and he became more impatient by each passing moment, losing all cares for waiting any longer. 'Elf!' he called up 'If you have not forgotten me, then come back down and let us move on!' No sooner had he said this did he suddenly hear a shuffle of noises and the soft patting of quick footsteps.

Someone was coming, and whoever it was, they were moving towards them in sudden haste. These noises did not go unheard by Legolas, who neatly leapt down from the pine, making hardly a sound at all as his soft shoes landed over the blanket of ferns. Gimli, with his axe gripped well and already at hand, stood and strode beside the elf and squinted his eyes in hopes to see who it was that was coming. An arrow was fitted onto Legolas' bow, yet only as he bent it back, did they both hear the most unexpected and familiar voice cry out to them:

'Wait! Spare us this fight! We have no hope of besting an elf and a dwarf.' Legolas and Gimli were stilled, puzzle for a moment, for the voice was not that of an orc, nor any man for that matter. At that very moment though, their questions were answered, for just then, the brushes that stood between them and the coming beings were suddenly pealed apart and behold! From behind the knotted shrubs, there emerged the bright faces of _Meriadoc Brandybuck_, and _Peregrin Took_. Their curled hair was dusted by ferns, and their velvet coats that were spoiled by rich buttons, (along with their embroidered waistcoats and elven cloaks) were slightly stained and travel worn, but nonetheless, there they were, each with a gleeful grin held smugly upon his face.

'What is this?' said Gimli who laughed with relief and wonder in his eyes. 'If I had told myself what I thought was to come this day, no sense of mine would have expected this. Master Merry and Pippin, you are a long way from the Shire, or else we have travelled further than I last deemed.' The hobbits each stood before their two friends, almost in laughter themselves at the sight of Legolas and Gimli.

'Hello to you too,' said Pippin, brushing the dried ferns off of his cloak.

'I should very well think that you have strayed from your course Master Dwarf,' answered Merry. 'We had our own plans mind you, but none of them were to find you here in Dunland. We almost did not believe our ears when we heard _you_ Gimli shouting up a tree.'

'Certainly not,' added Pippin, 'but I'm glad at least that even after these longs years, you recognized my voice enough to leave use whole. We most certainly did not expect to be greeted in such a way,' he added, with a light nod towards the weapons still at ready in Gimli's and Legolas' hands.

'Nor did we plan it,' said Legolas, removing the arrow from his bow string. 'Indeed, now I understand why I could not see you in the trees. Up there I looked for men and orcs, while here you came shielded from my sight by the very cloaks of my own kindred.' Here the elf laughed to himself and smiled. 'But are not hobbits from the rolling hills of the Shire? Waves of hills may be found in these lands, but the earth here is of rocks, not suited I think for hobbit holes.'

'Quite right,' said Pippin 'we would not dare think of comfort when we look to these hills, but that is not our business here at all. We go to visit the free kingdoms of men. You may know this already but our good friend Merry Brandybuck is now the _Master_ of Buckland.'

'Indeed, that we have heard,' replied Legolas 'I remember that the Lady Éowyn had sent gifts from Ithilien.'

'And so did King Éomer from Rohan,' added Gimli.

'That is exactly right,' said Merry 'which is why we go to visit King Éomer and Lady Éowyn: to give them my thanks. I would have gone alone but Pippin insisted on coming.'

'I would have had it no other way,' said Pippin shaking his head. '_You cannot be expected to leave the Shire unprotect, _he told me, but I said to him: _The Shire is plenty well protected without me. As well, if the Master of Buckland is going to ride through the wild as if he were strolling through the East Farthing Woods on a picnic, than he will need some protection. _After all who better to go with him than the Thain of the Shire?'

'Thain, did you say?' asked Gimli.

'You did not hear me wrong,' answered Pippin, his grin almost stretching past the length of his ears 'I am now called Thain Peregrin Took, Chief Protector of the Shire.'

'Protector of the Shire,' repeated Legolas, with a glowing smile pursed upon his lips, 'well that is news that has not reached us. You must tell us these new tidings, and of your land. How fare the Shire Folk?'

'We will tell you gladly,' said Merry 'but not here. We know well enough to guess that now is no time for recounts of the Shire. From what we have heard, you both have fallen into an unexpected quandary yourselves, and have been pulled into it with Aragorn and King Éomer.'

'And with the nerve to forget to invite us with you,' added Pippin, 'but there is no use in speaking of that mistake, for we are with you now in this mess of yours, and will most likely be suck in it until it is over.'

'And as my dear Cousin Pippin has already stated: we would have it no other way,' finished Merry.

'By the heart of the Lonely Mountain!' Stated Gimli. 'It appears that you know more about this bind than we do.'

'How could you expect anything less?' said Pippin. 'Even Cousin Frodo couldn't keep his secrets away from us.'

'It's true,' said Merry 'and on occasion, we would even learn a thing or two about Gandalf.'

'Then you must tell us what you have learned of our doings Master Hobbits,' said Gimli.

'If that is how you wish it,' answered Merry, relaxing his stance and crossing his arms, easing himself in the presence of old friends (as did Pippin.) It did not take long before Merry and Pippin had recounted the night where they had escaped the close encounter of orcs and ruffians that they had spied on two nights ago. Legolas and Gimli listened intently. In some places of the story, brief flashes of anger crossed the elf's and dwarf's eyes, particularly when they heard of Anduril in the unworthy hands of the ruffian man.

'There was a lot going on there that we didn't understand,' said Merry 'and probably even less if I could only hear over Pippin's chattering,' he added. Pippin, of course, objected almost instantly but in doing so, briefly told the rest of their tale, of running over the eastern side of the hill country and burying themselves deep within the pine woods, to the point where they had met their two acquainted friends.

By the time they had finished their tale, all four companions were seated beneath the shading of the trees with Gimli scratching the front of his beard, and Legolas sitting forward deep in his own thoughts.

'This is a strange matter,' said Gimli at last. 'Where is this Trohh Mizt of theirs that they speak of? Even the very shape of that name is black.'

'But good news has come from this at least,' said Legolas. 'Aragorn and Éomer have not been found by the enemy. They are safe.'

'Yes, but for how long?' said Gimli.

'Alas,' replied Legolas, 'I fear we have been asking ourselves this far too often. But if any new traces can be found of them, then hope is not yet lost.'

'Well, we haven't seen any signs of the sort around these parts,' said Merry, 'but we did hear a horse no more than a day ago. We were following down the direction where we heard it when we found you.'

'Ah yes, it was over near to the mountains, sometime last night after that miserable rain,' said Pippin.

'We heard it as well,' said Legolas, 'that was also the path which we were following.'

'Good,' said Pippin, 'then it appears as though we shall be following it together.'

'Yes, as our fellowship once did,' said Legolas. 'Already it gladdens my heart to have such company, both friendly and fierce.'

'Aye, with you, we shall be a strength that few enemies will be able to match. And if we begin our road this very hour, we shall be sure to find our kings.' Together, the four companions stood as one, and prepared for their leave, when Pippin spoke again.

'That is all good and well,' the young hobbit said, 'but might we trouble you for some food to fill our bellies first. Our provisions were lost with the ponies, and since then we have been starving ourselves through the wilderness.' To this, Gimli laughed again, clapping his hands together, while the elf chuckled lightly beside him.

'Ah, most splendid of hobbits! Truly nothing has changed between us since our last parting,' said Gimli in his mirth. 'Aye, we will share what we have with you,' and then he added to Legolas, 'but let us hope that it will be enough to spare with these young rascals, in our company.'

**A/N: Yay! Merry and Pippin to the rescue! Was it obvious? Thanks to Borys68 for guessing and thanks also for being my first ever reviewer.**

**Translation:**

_**Ma' ci gar ui sîdh**_** – May thou have eternal peace**

_**Barzûl frekk wurn**_** – Curse this water**

_**Sîdh Arod**_** – Peace Arod**


End file.
